


You Want to Shut Away Pieces of a Broken Heart.

by Jem (letalloursingingfollowhim)



Category: Hadestown - Mitchell
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Brief mentions of not eating, Crying, F/M, Hades loves his wife, Hermes is trying, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Okay but what if Hades was soft, Persephone is trying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:49:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24494557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letalloursingingfollowhim/pseuds/Jem
Summary: Persephone’s first time Up Top without Eurydice, her last time, and when she next sees Orpheus.
Relationships: Eurydice/Orpheus (Hadestown), Hades & Persephone (Hadestown)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 43





	You Want to Shut Away Pieces of a Broken Heart.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Pride month!!! That's the entire A/N. Happy PRIDE!!!!

The train carriage was unusually hot - it was often warm at the end of summer, but it had never felt so exceptionally warm. Even the plush, cushion seats seemed to radiate warmth around them, the small section of the window which could be opened seemingly providing no relief. The light scent of must from old seats had begun to permeate the train carriage, accentuated by the warmth. Despite the lack of people on the grandiose train, the warmth still stayed.

Hair pressed against her sweat slicked forehead, Persephone began to gently fan at herself, the small hand fan moving in rapid motions. It hadn’t been so warm Up Top; it had been a colder spring and summer than everyone had been accustomed to, a result of the way the Goddess of Springtime was feeling. The first trip Up Top after Eurydice’s demise had been a hard one, facing Orpheus had made the entire trip worse, even without his intention to. The poet hadn’t spoken a single word nor had he barley eaten a bite of food for the entire six months she was Up Top.

Remembering her time with Orpheus, without Eurydice, Persephone’s hands began to shake as she set down the fan, pulling her feet upon the seat beside her, an action she wouldn’t have been able to do if Hermes had been riding with her. Persephone had insisted upon making the journey alone, including asking Hades not to greet her on the platform in Hadestown. She was done with talking. Done with Hermes’ incessant worrying over her (all he should focus on was Orpheus). Persephone was done with remembering the six months Up Top.

Taking a shuddering breath, her hands brushed over the cool metal of the flask at the side of her hip. Gently unclasping it, Persephone took three long sips of the lukewarm amber liquid inside, letting it slide over her lips with ease. All the damning liquids had been able to slide over her lips with ease recently - it helped with forgetting, helped with coping. Shaking hands placed the flask back into it’s position beside her.

The train to Hadestown seemed to get longer and longer each time she rode it, the journey becoming more and more anxiety inducing each time. The journey gave her more time to ponder than she enjoyed, even if Hermes were sitting in the carriage beside her. The scenery was strange while descending to the Underworld, ever changing and new each time, nothing a constant which she could focus on. Persephone had brought up the way the scenery did that to Hades once, but he had simply waved his hand in a dismissal and sent her out of his office as he often did.

The thought of what Hades would say whenever he saw Persephone in the state she had left in struck fear into her chest, making her lungs seem to not want to take another breath and a knot form in the pit of her stomach. They tried not to discuss Eurydice anymore, tried not to discuss Orpheus. It was better to push both the Poet and Songbird to the back of their minds, let the memory of them slip away to other workers. But Orpheus wasn’t a worker yet, and while Hades didn’t need to acknowledge such a thing, Persephone did. It wasn’t Hades who saw the boy stare into a bowl of fresh soup, fists clenched by his side, eyes unmoving. Hades didn’t have to see the way all Orpheus was able to do was to sit on the same bar stool each day, eyes red and empty, an untouched glass of moonshine in his hands. No, Hades didn’t need to experience any of the distress Orpheus was going through. But Persephone did.

Drawing her knees further up to herself and pressing her warm forehead against the cold, glass window in hopes of some relief from the heat, Persephone took another long sip, once more longing for the contentment which came with the sunshine liquid. The scenery was changing again, the world descending further into darkness and sliver factories; soon Persephone would return to Hadestown once again.

As the train continued to whistle, growing louder with each mile it trudged, she decided to take a moment of gratitude. Grateful for no one else having boarded the train with her, no one there to become a shade too, the other carriages as empty as her flask was becoming. No one else on the train meant less people who Persephone had to watch the light leave their eyes, watch the way they forgot everything. The name always went first. The name of their loved one, or a memory attached to them, went last. It was the same process over and over again; she knew never to get too attached anymore.

Half an hour at most, Persephone knew as she took note of each louder and stronger clang and crash. The mines were the most dangerous aspect of Hadestown - a collapse a day, at least. Hades had been involved in a few himself. Persephone remembered the panic which rose in her throat whenever she got the message about a mine collapse, how, no matter what she was doing, she set everything down to rush to the mines. It was never anything serious, however - it never was with Hades.

Every sound, indicative of drawing closer to Hadestown, seemed to cause the ever-worsening feeling of emptiness that sat in Persephone’s chest to grow; each clang felt like it caused the cavernous nothingness to become larger. The heat peristed stronger too, the light of Hadestown flowing into the ornate train carriage, despite the tinted windows and the red curtains which Persephone had drawn the moment she had boarded. Bright and hot – the defining features of her home six months out of every twelve.

Quicker than Persephone had hoped, the train came to a slow, halting end as she was draining the very end of the – now hot - amber liquid which had failed to stay cool enough inside her flask. Sighing deeply, Persephone stood up, feeling the way her legs felt weak and unsteady beneath her, the alcohol clouded her mind into a numbing haze. Collecting her flowered bag and light suitcase, Persephone disembarked, stumbling off the train and onto the platform of Hadestown. It hadn’t changed a bit since she had left.

With trembling hands, Persephone picked up her suitcase and willed herself to go on, force herself into the warmth and bright again, despite the screams of her body telling her to lay down at where she stood. Exhaustion rolled over her – she hadn’t slept since Orpheus had last rested himself. The path was a short one, Hades had made sure their manor would be near the train station so he was easily able to access the new arrivals – a twenty minute walk at most.

Usually, Hades would be awaiting his wife on the platform, sitting on the single and uncomfortable bench they had placed there. But upon the request of Persephone, he was at his office, awaiting the Queen of the Underworld among papers and ledgers, rather than steam and factories. The request had come in the form of a handwritten letter from Persephone; they often exchanged letters which were delivered by Hermes bi-monthly. Persephone’s request had been unusual, she knew, but Hades’ reply hadn’t alluded to any confusion or upset about it.

Smoothing out her white fur, Persephone began to walk off the platform, from the smooth pavement underneath her feet to the cobblestone paths Hades had insisted on not flattening out. A horrendous din filled her ears as she walked, rhythmic motions, a breath for each step. It was difficult not to stare, not to glance around to look for Eurydice, to single her out and lie, tell her Orpheus had been doing fine Up Top. If Eurydice had remembered only one thing, it was that her poet cared for her missed her, even if Eurydice’s own name was long gone and felt foreign to her, Orpheus’ name and song still stuck.

Within a matter of moments, Persephone began to feel her head swim, the path twisting in awful ways beneath her feet as she swallowed back the fear and pressing exhaustion which crept in slowly. As she tried to focus her eyes onto something in hopes it would settle how much the world had begun tilting, Persephone felt grass meet her body. Soft grass, not artificial imports that Hades tended to bring in. Grass which Persephone herself had grown, one of the few things which was able to grow in Hadestown. However, upon feeling herself reach the grass, Persephone also felt the grass wilt beneath, a consequence of her deteriorating state.

Persephone wasn’t sure the exact moment that the world had begun to tilt so much she ended up on the green ground, but she didn’t mind it as her mind felt light, no longer in the crushing weight of thoughts, of Eurydice, of Orpheus. Sighing in satisfaction, she couldn’t help but notice when her eyes began to shut, how she couldn’t quite keep them open even if she willed. However, she didn’t mind, Persephone didn’t mind how the world fell from around her and senselessness came on strong.

~~~~~~

Disoriented, Persephone awoke, a soft, white, robe tied around her frame, her usual two-toned green dress and white fur coat nowhere to be seen. Rather than outside, the hum of Hadestown and the pounding of bright light, Persephone was in a dim room, silken sheets placed around her, black curtains covering the long windows. Blinking a handful of times, Persephone began to realise that she was in her bedroom, the bedroom shared by herself and Hades, and she was wearing the softest robe she owned. A dull headache was pounding at the base of her skull as she tried to recall the events which lead up to lying in her bed. However, with the pounding in her head and inablity to focus on much, the recollection didn’t come.

“Hades?” Persephone tried instead, shuddering at how scratchy and weak her voice sounded to her ears.

No reply came.

“Hades?” she tried again, increasing the volume and urgency of her tone to the best of her ability, despite how dry her throat felt.

“Lover?” Came a reply, voice filled with concern as Persephone’s husband made his way into the room, a bowl of something steaming in his hands.

“What happened?” Persephone asked, placing her thumb and forefinger on the bridge of her nose, hoping for the headache to ease.

Wordlessly, Hades set down the steaming bowl beside Persephone; the scent seemed to be both sweet and spicy at the same time, and looked pale orange in colour. Hades had made it before, a long, long time ago. A soup. A very old soup recipe, Persephone recalled, one given to him many years ago.

“I could ask you the same thing. Found you on the green outside when I came to check to see if you’d come home,” Hades replied, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, extending a hand to his wife.

Gracefully, Persephone offered him her hand in return, grateful for the cool and strong feel of them as she leaned into his touch.

“I’m tired, Hades,” Persephone replied, finding no point to beat around the bush with her replies. She had collapsed – there was no doubt about that. Exhaustion was the cause, Persephone was almost certain. It seemed that every time Orpheus had struggled to rest, struggled to eat, struggled to relax, so had Persephone. Her worry for the poor boy was more than she had told even Hermes. How she spent all her stay Up Top drinking in his old tavern to catch a glimpse of Orpheus, to see if he had even a glimmer of hope left, even if Eurydice didn’t. To spend her days and nights drinking was to see Orpheus and to have the alcohol to dampen out any of her unsavoury thoughts of Down Below, of the cries of Eurydice for Orpheus.

Solemnly, Hades dropped his head. “I know, lover, I know.” He wouldn’t admit it, the fact he had spent nights sleepless while Persephone was away because the thoughts of Eurydice got too much; Hades wouldn’t admit that his days were filled with work and nothing but work because the thought of Orpheus leaving Eurydice was all encompassing; and Hades wouldn’t admit that he had shared a tear or two when thinking about Eurydice, cursing how loud the wind could be, especially to those vulnerable.

Despite the boiling hot of the room, Persephone shivered, pulling the white robe around herself with her free hand. Waves of sadness had been crashing around her since the moment she ascended to Up Top, the moment she had seen Hermes. Persephone had been able to feel the weight of despair hanging low from the air, a feeling which clouded each judgement and descion; palpable. It was similar to Hadestown in that regard, Hadestown always had a familiar feeling of sadness, feeling like the world was too heavy and demanding, perched directly on the chests of every worker, every shade, who came to Hadestown.

“Hades,” Persephone started, removing her hand from his and pressing it against the soft blankets. “I’m worried for Orpheus…” her voice was broken still, quiet. “If he keeps goin’ on the way he’s goin’, he’s gonna end up here and it ain’t gonna be pretty if he does.”

Bringing his hand from beside Persephone, Hades clasped them, knuckles white as he looked up to his wife again. Hades hadn’t expected Orpheus to be coping without Eurydice up above – it wasn’t easy to cope with the loss of someone. Hades remembered the first time Persephone had gone to be with her mama, the way the fear and anger bit at him, forcing him deeper into his work. The night before, how tightly he held onto her; the night after she came back, the way he kissed her and wouldn’t let go. But Orpheus wouldn’t have that, Eurydice wasn’t going to come back.

Persephone hung her head low, rubbing it gently as she tried to force back tears at the memories of Orpheus which seemed to be spilling into her mind faster as she woke up further, the mind haze lifting ever so slightly.

“It’s okay, Seph,” Hades hummed, deliberate in the way he spoke her name. Even if it wasn’t okay, even if he hadn’t experience everything Persephone had, he could just imagine, and wanted to do what he could for his wife.

“He ain’t eating, Hades, or sleepin’. Hermes is doing the best he can, but the poor boy’ll end up here, trust me on that,” Persephone continued, trying to cease tears which had begun to freely flow.

“Look at me, Persephone,” Hades spoke, his voice a low rumble as he took her slender, soft hands in his calloused ones again. “Hermes wouldn’t let him. He won’t let the boy get to that point. He won’t.”

“But-” Persephone began, leaning her head onto Hades’ shoulder, a small nod of affection that hadn’t been shown in some time. Their marriage was hurt, there was no doubt about it being almost in shambles; but sometimes, it was okay. Sometimes, Persephone felt safe in Hades’ arms.

Hades hummed to cut her off, a gentle hum as he brought his wife into his arms, cradling her in a way that he hadn’t since long before Eurydice came to Hadestown. Persephone shut her eyes against Hades’ form, letting her body fall against him comfortably.

“Thank you,” Persephone spoke gently, melting against Hades, safe with her husband.

~~~~~~

Years.

Years and Hades still hadn’t broken his word – Orpheus hadn’t turned up to the depths of the Underworld. Each year that Persephone went back up top, she made sure to tell him how Eurydice was doing (the white lie slipped her tongue occasionally, it was easier to give the Poet a little more hope), check up on him and make sure that Hermes was coping well enough. Each year, a little more light filtered into his eyes until, eventually, Orpheus wouldn’t stop talking of the fond memories he had of Eurydice, even once Persephone had admitted the truth of Eurydice and how much she had forgotten.

For a the Goddess, sixty years meant very little, but to Orpheus, it was a lifetime. Sixty years after Eurydice had been banished to Hadestown, Orpheus had to make a decision with Persephone – allow himself to die naturally or board the train to Hadestown? Up until that moment, Hades’ word had still been true, Orpheus was still Up Top – but that was the moment that his word had been broken. Orpheus seemed as if he may not make it past the night before Persephone’s departure. The, now, old man, light still held in his eyes. But, Orpheus chose Hadestown, chose working for eternity just to catch another glimpse of his wife.

“She won’t remember you, Orpheus,” Hermes had spoken to him, his voice low and solemn.

“I know,” Orpheus had then croaked out his reply. “Just… I need to see her again.”

To get Orpheus to Hadestown would be a long feat, both Hermes and Persephone knew, and an even longer feat for Persephone to watch him forget everything, the way Eurydice had so many years ago. Although it brought tears to her eyes to consider, Persephone had agreed. Orpheus would go to Hadestown with her.

~~~~~~

Watching Orpheus forget everything was easier than Persephone had imagined; the wide smile that crossed his face when he saw Eurydice again the first day he descended Underground was enough to bring a brief smile to Persephone’s face, too. Even if Eurydice hadn’t look away from the pickaxe in her hands, her eyes trained on the stone, it was enough to see the flash of true happiness from Orpheus.

It was long ago when Orpheus had forgotten his name, the same process as everyone else, the same as everybody else. Orpheus and Eurydice – lifeless and working until the end of eternity, like they both had agreed.

Until the day Persephone decided to venture into the rubble and quarries herself, curiosity getting the better of her, despite the fact she knew, to even catch a glimpse of the old lovers, was enough to bring back the memories flooding her mind.

"La, la, la, la, la,” 

Stopping in her tracks, the Goddess halted before a boulder. Everything around her was grey, dull, smoke filled. Hadestown had changed significantly. There was no longer the blinding, artificial lights or the suffocating heat that there had been. Hades had changed it long before Orpheus had arrived. Persephone had thanked him gratefully, no longer finding it unbearable to spend her winters Underground with her husband.

“La, la, la, la, la,”

Persephone turned around, sure it was her mind making the music, her attempt to drown out the drawl of pickaxes swinging. Her memory would never forget the song she had once heard, the song that played on her mind whenever spring would come, a fondness blooming in her chest. 

“La, la, la, la, la,”

A red carnation bloomed at the front of her black boots. With a gasp, Persephone turned around again, her eyes beginning focusing in on the couple that had never left her mind, even when she had tried to get them to – Orpheus and Eurydice. Orpheus’ mouth singing the tune, Eurydice’s humming the melody with him; standing beside each other, even without acknowledging the presence of the other one, singing the song they both once had known.

Tears began to well up in Persephone’s eyes as she stepped out of the quarry, her chest filling with such glee she hadn’t felt in a long while. Hades did this. She wasn’t sure why, when or how, but it was Hades’ doing, and Persephone had never wanted to thank her husband for something more.

Leaving the quarry, her eyes still brimming with joyful tears, Persephone made her way to Hades’ office. Standing in front of his ebony door, she took a breath, tears still flowing freely, heart pounding with joy.

“Hades,” Persephone rasped, not bothering to knock as she stepped into his office.

“Lover?” Hades questioned, looking up, noticing his wife’s tearful eyes. “Lover, is everything okay?”

“Thank you!” Persephone sobbed, bringing her white fur coat’s sleeve to her eyes to dry them. “Thank you,” she spoke again, taking a seat in Hades’ comfortable leather chair that was positioned in front of his desk.

“For?” Hades asked, confusion waving over him as he reached out a hand to Persephone.

“Orpheus and Eurydice,” she continued to cry as she smiled, taking his hand in hers, thumb gently brushing over the back of his hand.

Without speaking, Hades stood up, pulling his hand from hers and instead gently pulling his wife from the chair where she sat. Tugging Persephone into his embrace, he gently wiped away the tears still running down her face with the pad of his thumb. “Anything to bring some joy, lover,” Hades spoke, his voice low, still holding onto Persephone. “Anything for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I know for a fact there are three spelling mistakes, please forgive me but my laptop doesn’t have bloody autocorrect and I can’t find the mistakes. Other than that, it was fully edited lol. 
> 
> Comments will forever make me happy cry.  
> -Jem.


End file.
